Hisashii~ I hope u haven't forgotten abt me yet. For those who have always been supporting me for this story, or even on tumblr, on facebook, anywhere, arigatou gozaimasu~ (_O_) i love you all!
Squalo yelled. He yelled so loud Lambo really thought his voice would break from all the yelling. Lambo also thought he would bite his tongue from all the swearing...
Seriously, what was so horrible anyway? It was just some clothes scattered on the floor ("In all the fucking rooms!") … one or two dishes in the sink of the kitchen ("The water is overflowing, goddamn it!")…And some corners that needed to be dusted! That was all!
"Are you kidding me?" Squalo grimaced as he threw his suitcase and sword on the living-room's couch – or what looked like a couch: the poor piece of furniture was half hidden under stacks and stacks of magazines and newspapers and was so stained on some places that it looked more like it was about to cry out loud and jump out of the window, if it could. "Are you fucking kidding me? Vooi, stupid brat! Do you never call a house cleaner here? I'm not staying a single day in this shitty mess!"
"Well, look. It's not that horrible." Lambo protested as he tried to avoid the silverette's outraged glare. He took a step in the living-room and pretended to pick one stack of magazines off of the couch, making a place for Squalo to sit on. "I'll just make a bit of cleaning and I swear after one hour you won't have any matter to complain about!"
Superbi Squalo didn't seem that convinced. He just stood on the doorstep, eyes glancing rapidly at the younger man's apartment with a disgusted air as if to say, 'what in the world did I do to deserve this shit'. Sometimes a wrinkle would appear on the bridge of his nose, as though he just smelt a dead rat smell. Lambo, however, dared to continue, "It's a good deal, isn't it? I told you there are no hotel rooms available at the moment… At least not until Easter is over. And I'm sure you don't want to be left in a crowd of drunkards during St Patrick's Day… or entering by mistake a club where the Night is held (Squalo started when he heard that name). So what about staying here?"
The young man was aware he was playing for high stakes. Anyhow he decided to keep his best poker face as Squalo's was turning more and more unconfident. At the moment a sigh of surrender went past the silverette's lips, Lambo knew he had won. He crossed his legs, a drop of sweat going down his forehead. "So?"
"I get it…" The long haired man was grumbling. Surprisingly, the annoyed, capitulating face of the older man could look strangely charming. Almost cute. Shrugging, Lambo grinned.
"I can't hear you. What did you say?"
"I get it." Squalo said louder and frowned. "I'll stay here. Now get the fuck up!"
"Ah? Why?"
"I told you I'm not gonna fucking live in that shitty mess. So get up. And get out."
"Ah?"
Bam. Too late. Before Lambo could do anything, he was kicked out, locked out of his own house.
…
It wasn't funny. Not at all. As a matter of fact, it was even more than mind-numbing. All they're doing is talking, talking, talking, those useless, noisy herbivores. Even the mere fact of watching their very lips moving before his bored eyes was enough to stir yawning after yawning from Hibari Kyoya.
"Kyoya-kun. Why do I get the feeling that you're not listening to even a single word of what I said?" A young man with long, dark blue hair tied up at the back, asked. It was easy to guess at his strict appearance – black jacket, white shirt, black necktie and black trousers, the whole lot coupled with a leather briefcase that was giving off a vibe of class and importance – that the man looked exactly like the stereotype lawyer.
This, nonetheless, wasn't something that could make Kyoya feel insecure. Far from it. Since his early childhood, because of his family's special "position", the heir of the Hibari clan had always been surrounded by people of all sorts: lawyers, businessmen, politicians, tabloids journalists … and sometimes, by coroners, judges, CIA agents or leaders of yakuza family. It all depended on the circumstances, actually. Still, until now, Kyoya had always been a silent watcher. A kid whose role was limited to listening and learning from his elders' advices. If some nameless "stranger" were to be shot dead right in front of him, the police wouldn't ever consider him as an exploitable witness. That was the life of the young lord: free room, board and laundry… Till now. More precisely, until his recent graduation from college.
No, the President of the Student council was nowhere to be found. Hibari Kyoya could now be referred to as the 7th kumicho of the Katou-gumi, the Japanese branch of the Yue Yang Group whose Boss was also Kyoya's second and older cousin, Fon. Conventionally, the Katou-gumi's headquarters were supposed to be located in Tokyo where most of the clan's activities were "run", but Hibari being Hibari, he insisted on keeping his place in Namimori and let his lieutenants manage the business in town.
Anyway, anyone would agree that there was no place on Earth that suited the young Boss more than the huge and traditional mansion that had been the house of the Hibari family since the very Edo period until today. And the young Master in his dark kinagashi, quietly sitting on the tatami floor while sipping a cup of green tea, eyelids closed and face akin to one of a feudal lord, he sure looked absolutely befitting that strange, yet addictive atmosphere, the reassuring murmur of the trees around the mansion from time to time interrupted by the sound of the water pouring in a nearby tsukubai, or the scraping of hurried feet on the stone paths.
Actually, the one who was totally out of place was the lawyer.
"Hey, are you listening?" Mukuro asked again.
"I am." Kyoya slightly scowled at the other male's insistent voice. Rokudo Mukuro really was his pet peeve. Sharp and obsidian irises raised on the long haired man. "Who's that Vito herbi-"
"Ahem." Kusakabe cut. "What Kyo-san wanted to ask is, what the clan is gaining by agreeing on that deal."
"Everything." Mukuro replied then shifted painfully on his zabuton – he wasn't used sitting for too long in that position and his legs were starting to grow numb. "As you may already know, the Giordano family and the Katou-gumi are, since long, in very good terms when it comes to business matters. What our Boss is trying to do is to create a stronger alliance between us, an alliance from which both of our groups would derive important profits. Even for Yue Yang…"
"That's the point." Kusakabe retorted. "As their twin branch, we can't afford to decide on something that important without a meeting with their head boss."
Mukuro smirked (with effort) then shifted again. "Yes, I'm aware of that. And I'm about to go meet Mr. Fon about that matter soon. But since the Katou-gumi is the main interest in this deal, I thought it was more appropriate to see Kyoya-kun first…" He said, then paused, awaiting a change in the dark haired man's reaction. No, there was nothing. Kyoya was as indifferent as usual. Finally, Mukuro got up. "Well then, I'm looking forward for your reply. In the meantime… oww… You have my number, Kyoya-kun? So if you've made up your mind, will you call me?"
"Whatever." Hibari waved his hand in disdain.
Mukuro left the mansion. Two minutes later, everything was back to its normal, calm atmosphere… but it did only last two minutes, because as soon as the thought of having a warm bath crossed Kyoya's mind, an underling slid the fusuma open, bringing with him the young Master's ringing cell phone.
'What is that again?' The young man ruminated angrily. That was a rhetorical question, truly, as he knew what idiot would call him for no valid reason in the middle of the day. "What?" He almost yelled in the phone.
"Ouch. You don't have to shout that loud. I'm not deaf, you know." A playful voiced answered. "By the way, are you free now?"
"I'm not. And stop calling me whenever you feel like it. I'll bite you to death."
"But you never tell me when I can see you. It's quite unfair. I gave you my number, didn't I? If you don't want me to call you, why don't you call me instead?"
"I'm not calling an herbivore and least of all you. You can go rot in some dark place for all I care."
"In some dark place, huh… That can't be possible now, I think." What was that? It seemed like the herbivore's voice was very close, all of a sudden… "That's because I'm already here."
A pat on Kyoya's back. Just like in a horror movie. His obsidian eyes wide open, slowly turning into a kingdom of irritation: Dino Cavallone was in his house, waiting for him to turn back and face reality. If it was possible, Kyoya would have liked to kick that idiotic blond's ass out of his territory. After all, here, he was the Master and he had got the power of life and death in that place.
On the other hand, the idiotic blond was, technically, his oblige. And if there was something the young lord hated more than the other man, that was certainly being indebt to anyone, a fortiori to said idiotic blond. How the hell did the proud Boss get into such a shameful situation, it is a taboo question in the Hibari mansion. So for now, let's just say that, for some time, Kyoya and Dino are the best friends ever. Just for now.
"…So?" Dino asked for the nth time. Now they were far from the mansion, far from its calm and solitude. A diametrically different décor that consisted into a confined and crowded space (Kyoya's worst nightmare, indeed), with people ("annoying herbivores") coming and going with tray meals of all sorts, ranging from salads to ice creams and hamburgers ("Your favorite, isn't it?" – "…")
"So what?" The dark haired youth said between two mouthfuls of his Big M*c. He was eyeing suspiciously at Dino who, apart from his face being entirely hidden behind a thick winter cap, black sunglasses, scarves and parka, looked more or less normal in the crowd eating his salad ("My agent will make a scene if I take anything else").
"I said, if you don't have any plan for this week end, why don't you go with me to a party?" A grimace, amusingly hideous, was Kyoya's answer. "Aaah, come on, Kyoya!" Dino pleaded, "There's no one I can bring with me, and it's a dinner dance! I'd look too pathetic if I go there alone!"
"Just hire an escort girl."
"That would be even more pathetic! I'll die of shame!"
"Then die."
"Kyoya don't be so mean! There will be food…"
Hibari's eyebrows twisted in a questioning way. Did that guy really think he could buy him with food? "I agreed on tagging along with you for few days. This doesn't include crowding in boring parties with the likes of yours."
Cavallone sighed. He leant back in his chair and remained still for few seconds. Kyoya wished he would stay that way till the end of their stupid 'date'… But it seemed like the man had other projects. "So… What about this." Dino was back again. "You come to the party. With me. And we'll be even. I won't call you anymore. I won't annoy you at your house anymore."
Kyoya frowned, pondering over the blond's proposition as though a kid would deliberate about whether eating a burger too big for him. Or not. The temptation is strong, though. His lips parted open… "I'm in."
"Really?" Dino was beaming so much even his disguise wasn't enough to conceal his beaming. "Thank you! Thank you so much! You're saving me! Ah. By the way, is your passport still valid?"
"Huh?"
…
Hey, Mister, you got any 'Yu-Gi-Oh!'? – What you think? – You got any Dragonball GT?... And that shit (a moronic movie Xanxus couldn't remember its name) kept on like this for maybe one hour long. Well, actually, the flight took at most 30mn, but precisely 30mn after that stupid scene with the shoplifters, Xanxus somehow got engrossed into the movie. Family comedy too could be funny, sometimes. That's why he went out of the jet only once the movie over.
Thanks God, Rome wasn't as cold as the previous year. It was even kind of hot… well. For a month of March in Rome, at least. Why did he have to go there, really? It was all mundane stuff. The kind of stuff the raven truly hated. Anyone at work could have replaced him… but naaah. All those scums were all busy doing the other silver haired trash's job. That weirdo okama was… if he wasn't wrong… in Shanghai, negotiating with some guy (was he some kind of royalty or an oil tycoon again). Buttlicker Levi was freezing his balls off in Moscow because of some legal litigation. And the other ones were in some very fancy places: Seoul, Paris, London… but Xanxus knew from the horse's mouth that some lucky bastard got sent to fucking Bali.
Bali. With the beaches, the sea, the sun… the sun. The fucking sun. Maybe that was a place the shark would like to go to. Maybe. Not some gloomy and rainy and cold place like Rome (this is solely Xanxus' opinion, which has nothing to do with the author, who think that Rome is one of the most beautiful places in the world, independently of the city's weather). At any rate…
"At any rate, it's not like you're going to stay there for the rest of your fucking life. Take it like a fucking man!" That was Squalo bawling at him through Sk*pe. On small and low resolution screen, he looked like a drenched rat. More than usual.
"Shut up. And why the hell are you wearing a fucking rag on your fucking head? Are you cosplaying Cinderella? Have some decency, damn it."
"Voooi! Shut the fuck up! And I'm not. There are some circumstances…"
"I didn't ask."
"So why the fuck are you fucking bothering me-"
The screen went black. Fucking trash was certainly on his period. Or that was the legendary PMS thing the raven had heard about, long time ago. Well, fuck, it was already dark outside the limousine. And the Grand Hotel's entrance was already crammed full with important people, representatives of the world's high society. Pleasure for the eye. The raven was already wearing a black, sharp-looking suit Squalo had prepared for him days ago in anticipation of the evening party (it's not like the trash was choosing all his clothes, though. It wasn't as if the trash had organized all his clothes for the following days either), his jet black hair combed back like a real gentleman. Everything seemed okay. He stepped out and was heading to the hotel's entrance…
"Oh! Isn't that Xanxus!"
When some white haired blockhead with no will to live decided to call out at him.
Byakuran was waving at him from the hall. Xanxus would have loved to just ignore the male and keep on his way, if it wasn't for said male practically running after him in the crowd. Finally, grabbing the raven's arm, as though they were old acquaintances. "Aah! Xanxus. You didn't see me? I just called you, seconds ago… Oh, just forget it. You too have been invited? Thanks God! I won't feel lonely tonight."
"Stop babbling disgusting shit. Get the fuck off." Xanxus glared at him and wickedly pulled his arm back, in vain since the white haired man still was sticking at him like a leech. Still smiling, Byakuran took a quick glance at the people around him. "Mmh… So you're alone? Squalo isn't with you?"
Now, the tanned man wasn't glaring anymore. It was more like his ruby eyes (if they could) would cast beam of death at Byakuran, erasing the clinging white leech's existence from the surface of this bloody Earth. His fingers started itching as he remembered his guns were only few inches away, well hidden beneath his jacket. But the stars really were against him that night. This time, it was a woman's turn to interrupt the upcoming carnage.
Dressed in a sheer lace gown with a plunging neckline and adorned in black feathers, and with her hair tied in a charming messy bun, Bianchi was, with no doubt, one of the most gorgeous women attending the party. Even the slightly angry air was giving more loveliness to her whole presence: she actually could pass off as some sort of duchess or queen, in the middle of the 19th century-like ballroom. "Would you stop acting like a kid and behave? People are watching." She said to Byakuran. "It's already tiresome to have to deal with all those old geezers-"
"Bianchi, you're alone?" Byakuyran was grinning.
"… I'm not." The young woman stated, eyebrows furrowing with irritation. "Unlike you, I can find a cavalier whenever I need one-"
"Is it your brother?"
Bianchi grimaced. "That idiot was supposed to accompany me. And he is here! I mean, we arrived together. But now I can't find that good-for-nothing Hayato anywhere…"
"Now, now."
"Since this other good-for-nothing brother ("Ah? I am?") is here, you'd better not give me the slip."
"Aye aye."
"By the way, Xanxus." Bianchi resumed, a little more calmly. "I didn't see Squalo anywhere. Don't tell me you guys had a fight again."
"It looks like they had, dear sister."
Bianchi froze. "Don't you ever call me that way again."
"But I was just confirming what you say." The white leech tried to look wounded. "And I almost forgot. Dr. Shamal is looking for you. I recall he said something like, 'I'll be waiting for my scarlet dove in room n°- Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Dear sister, don't pinch the back of my hand. Look. It's all swollen up now. I hope Dr. Shamal can give me some good medicine for this- Ouuch."
They kept fighting throughout the whole party. Xanxus kept on drinking throughout the whole party. Even if he wanted to move away from that dysfunctional family, they would just follow him, again and again. A ridiculously pitiful trio. Two hours later, the raven was completely stoned, unable to tell left from right, and even less to appreciate the wonderful and fairylike décor of the Hotel's Salone delle feste. And the idiot brother and sister still were arguing like kids in kindergarten.
'Is that hell? I must be dead and this must be hell.' Xanxus thought. But if he was dead, why wasn't the silver haired idiot with him? At some point, he started tugging hard at Byakuran's hair, mistaking it for Squalo's. But it was different. It was shorter, and the voice of its owner wasn't as annoying as Squalo's voice.
"How rude." A voice Xanxus never heard before said out of nowhere, standing out in the noisy murmur of the attendance. Or was the voice coming from before him, he couldn't say anymore. "This is supposed to be a high society gathering. A minimum of behaving would be welcome from any of us."
"Aah?" With a last fragment of sobriety, Xanxus frowned viciously then, looking at the newcomer, "Who the fuck are you?"
"Waait!..." A blond head yelled while running toward the small group. When he reached the others, Dino was panting as if he had run a 10km marathon. "Wait! Alessio…. (pant) You haven't met him yet (pant)... Gaah! This man isn't-"
"Cavallone scum." Xanxus spat, not even casting a single glance at Dino Cavallone, attention (or what was left of his attention) entirely focused on that tall and bold man who just appeared in front of him. By eye, the man was as tall as Xanxus, and probably must also be about his age. So what was the main difference between them? Well, probably the fact that the stranger was sober. "You know that asshole?"
"Yeah…" The blond breathed deeply. "This is Don Giordano's eldest son. Alessio Giordano. Alessio, this is Xanxus Vongola. If I'm not mistaken, your father and he are currently discussing about some important contract in the States?"
"I'm not." Xanxus hissed.
"Of course." Alessio spoke with a confident tone. "I was told that the man in charge of the negotiation is currently in NY City. This man can at least hire conscientious employees, even being what he is."
"Uhh? I'm asking you, you little piece of junk." The raven said, low and slowly. Deadly slowly. The crowd suddenly silenced around them. "What exactly am I ?"
"Xanxus, please," Dino tried to stop him, lightly pushing him backward. "You're ruining the party."
"Shut it, you trash. I'm asking this fucking piece of junk here."
"I'll tell you, Vongola." Alessio replied with a smirk that could have meant 'Go to Hell, Xanxus'.
"Alessio…"
"For me, you're no more than a mad dog. A mere go-getter bastard with no shame. You would have been nothing without Timoteo' help. Even now all you can do is dirtying such a respectable man's name!"
This had gone too far. Dino's legs were trembling, and Bianchi and Byakuran shared a quick look as Xanxus, with a sinister air, was heading toward the man who just publically put him down. His step was heavy, an ominous sound accompanying it like the prelude of a disaster. Someone (certainly Dino) was trying to block his way. How useless. His right hand had disappeared beneath his jacket.
And as that movie title said, 'There will be blood'.
TBC
